


Take My Hand

by shippingandrecieving



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Author finger guns in thalassophobia, Kallus vs Cold again, Kalluzeb Summer Exchange, M/M, Merfolk!Zeb, merAU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25271131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shippingandrecieving/pseuds/shippingandrecieving
Summary: The Man blinked two wide gold eyes and stared at Garazeb in anxious disbelief.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus & Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19
Collections: Kalluzeb Summer Exchange





	Take My Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jellysharkbat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellysharkbat/gifts).



> This makes three for you Jelly 💕
> 
> The prompt for this one was 'mermay'

The water flowed cold that night.

Another ship had sank into the darkness, one more to the abyss in persuit of filling out the map.

Garazeb had watched the vessel's decent, and kept his distance in silence as his own kind tore ravenously at the wooden planks of it's hull, and snatched the scrambling sailors off it's deck.

He hoped it was a good map, at least, worthy of all those lost at sea.

A few men had tried to fight; those that held on to spears and ropes with all their might, and those that had already been pulled in, desperately clawing for the world above and for freedom from the ravenous claws and teeth of merfolk and monsters. Their screams had passed to silence hours ago.

Garazeb pushed off of the outcropping of rock, and ascended into the lighter waters. He circled in the hopes of finding fish, but the scents of food had long since been smothered by Human and that of their coppery blood.

Zeb had never seen the appeal of eating sailors; Human just didn't taste good, none that he'd had in his mouth anyway. He sourly eyed those still dredging around the sinking wreck for meat. It's wooden bones would not drift far, they'd boil and break over the volcanic vents first.

He contemptuously past a short gulp of water through his gills and continued his circling, dodging bits of debris and slowly descending flotsam.

He drifted to a halt at the telltale thrum among the rhythm of the water signalling the return of those that had since slunk away, lured back by the smell of something that's heart still beat warm blood.

He followed the shadows of the other beings that had begun to circle, and drifted below his fellow merfolk and other hungry mouthes filled with sharp teeth.

One mer with an eels tail dove above the surface, either too eager or too hungry to wait any longer for the frenzy to begin. Whatever was above them beat it back with one strike.

Garazeb's gills flared. It would have been comical, if not for the panicked shout and another slash from a piece of wood that followed.

"Get-get away!" Human words, no one of theirs would use them. He couldn't understand exactly what it had said, but he knew what a shout of distress sounded like.

The feeding signal had well been given, and the rest of the gathered merfolk leaped out of the churning waters to try to drag the Human of it's shelter.

Garazeb's challenging hiss caught the attention of a few, and with a sharp flick of his tail he surged upward into the fray. He lunged and sank his fangs deep into the flank of Eel-Tail. It thrashed and twisted inside it's skin to bite him back, flashing it's railway spike teeth and hissed.

Zeb snapped his jaw. He was bigger.

Eel-Tail spat and slithered out of his grip, fleeing downwards into the shadowy waters of the deep.

Garazeb bared all his sharp teeth in vicious satisfaction as one more took a hard smack to the side of the head from the Human's improvised weapon.

He was more nimble than the other mer of the north with their shark and whale tails. His resembled that of a seal, and they were always welcoming to one of their almost-kin in their colonies. The pups would squeal to be played with, and would nip at his tail until he joined in their games.

Zeb twisted through the water, eyes and teeth flashing like fishes scales. Nothing remained save for bubbles and unsettled water.

He shook himself, feeling the aching pinch of bites and stingers, but no blood clouded the water. His nose wrinkled and he twitched in apprehension; the icy waters of the North seldom stayed peaceful.

Garazeb made sure his fangs were as hidden behind his lips as he could get them, then slowly broke the surface of the water.

He found himself almost nose to nose with a human; pale as white sails and it's lips cracked and bloody red.

The Man held itself awkwardly stiff and it shivered as through struck by some hundred electric eels all at once. It's soaked clothes were torn to nearly shreds after only moments of hungry scratches and bites, too many of his kind had developed a thirst for coppery blood and foul tasting flesh.

The Man blinked two wide gold eyes and stared at Garazeb in anxious disbelief.

The mer studied the Human with a sympathetic tip of his head. The poor fool must have thought the cold had taken his senses, and he couldn't just leave the helpless thing to freeze. It's makeshift raft was already sank too low into the water, hardly staying afloat with the weight of it's body on top.

 _"I'll be back soon."_ Gold-eyes blinked, and he leaned back a little, his meagre raft tipping with the motion.

Garazeb couldn't say if that or any sailor knew the mer language. Human words never fit right in his mouth, he had far too many teeth.

He slipped back beneath the water, careful not to make to loud a sound or upset the Human's only safety, and dove downwards into the abyss.

Garazeb preferred to avoid the polar depths, for among the billowing ash of the steam vents it was difficult to see, even with eyes like his. And evil things prowled this far down, evil and _large_.

The acrid scent of the water stung his eyes and made him shudder. He kept close to the belching spires as he dared, too many that had gotten too close had been boiled in an instant.

He blinked his stinging eyes and focused into the darkness. Nestled in the side of one chimney, something glowed. He swam towards it slowly, careful not to make any sound or disturb the water.

Dark, leathery fingers reached out tentatively and scooped the little rock out of the crater it was nested in. The thing was hot to the touch but not as hot as the vents, his hands were safe for now.

Garazeb cluched the glowing rock tightly, hoping it would be enough to warm two freezing human hands. He hid the little rock against the dark flesh of his belly, too much light would draw attention and he had no desire to be eaten by a leviathan with teeth the size of him.

Zeb knew he was not alone. He kept as close to the only cover as he dared, the hot ash and rock distorted the flow of the water and would, hopefully, confuse anything looking at him through it.

The higher he swam, the thinner the smoke became. It was easier to breathe now but his cover was gone. He thrashed his tail and sprinted to the lighter waters, the moon did not spread it's light so far but anything was better than the pressing blackness of the pit.

Zeb hovered a few metres below the Human's raft, staring downward and listening. A low humming disturbed the water, the monsters were coming back.

He broke the surface again to find the Man exactly where he had left it, hunched forward and trembling.

He couldn't understand Human's language, but he understood the grateful nodding and the cradling of that little rock as though it was more precious than the very air it needed to breathe.

The Human's blunt teeth had begun to chatter, a signal that it was still too cold. It raised it's head and whispered it's words.

"Don't go... I-I beg you...p-please..?"

Zeb once again tipped his head to the side. More frightened words, these ones asked for comfort.

Garazeb stayed close to the raft, ready to chase away hungry mer and keeping the freezing Human awake.

He wrinkled his nose as he submerged again and caught the sight of a familiar body slinking away. Eel-Tail was trouble. He rose out the water again to show the Man that is was once again safe.

The little puffs of fog had stopped ghosting from it's lips.

Zeb blinked, and reached his hand up to give the Human's shoulder a tentative nudge.

Nothing. The only warmth left was from the little rock pressed against his heart.

He sank down a little, sorrow heavying his limbs. His reflective eyes snapped up and a very bad idea came to Zeb then. A very, _very_ bad idea.

He preferred the warmer climate anyway. Not too hot, of course, he didn't want to boil. And the heat vents and darkness this far North were simply _unpleasant_. Just because he had thick fur to keep him safe in the cold it did not precisely mean he enjoyed it's biting chill.

The raft tipped as Zeb leaned up to pull himself out of the water to the waist, and he cupped one leathery hand over Gold-Eyes' frozen shoulder.

He swallowed, in a mix of apprehension and shame, and sank his teeth into the side of the human's neck, scoring in his future gills.

Cooling blood filled his mouth and he gagged, spitting out as much as he could. Human still tasted awful.

Zeb rolled them as one, as he did with the adolescent seal pups that bothered him until they were tired or hungry, or found something shiny among the pebbles, and dragged the stiff body of the Human into the water. He let the water take them, and held the Human close against his chest, one large hand pressed over it's heart.

Gold-eyes' gold eyes flew open and closed it's scarred, pale hands around their own throat. It spluttered and kicked, struggling in Zeb's grip.

_"Still! You're alive."_

The man froze, blinking it's shiny eyes. Garazeb released his grip, and gently span the Man around to face him. Zeb's brow lowered over his dark eyes, the Man's confusion and fear was written plainly across his face, looking as lost and alone as a hungry pup still waiting and wailing for it's mother.

_"Leaving folk from here or the Above to perish never sat right with me."_

Gold-Eyes' pale throat worked, the slender fingers of one hand still idly drifting over it's new gills.

"Where will you take me?" Gold-Eyes blinked. Zeb blinked too, he'd teach it how to speak along the way.

_"Warmer places."_

He took the Man, well mer now, he supposed, by his hand and lead him southward.


End file.
